


look back in anger

by judisno



Category: The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)
Genre: Character Development, Character Study, Denial of Feelings, Gay Male Character, Hopeful Ending, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23639299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judisno/pseuds/judisno
Summary: read this and listen to let me out by the veronicas if you wanna cry.
Relationships: Brad/Patrick (Perks of Being a Wallflower), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 7





	look back in anger

It's easy to be a nobody when you're a weird kid and you know you're a weird kid and you figure out just what's so weird about you as you grow and accept that you're always going to be weird to the rest of the people you know around your own age for the rest of your life no matter what. That's when you choose to be Nobody, deciding for yourself it'll be easier if you're the class clown people don't bother to learn the name of because you're just there for a laugh, to have a good time while it lasts, and everybody knows it won't last. They can laugh at you now because they know for a fact you're not going anywhere in life. You chose this.

It's all fun and games until someone new notices you, really notices you, and you think for the first time that you might matter to someone other than your sister. It was fine how it was, you think, when you only felt like you mattered to her, when you didn't even matter to yourself, because then you didn't try so extra hard to be funny that you cared if that new person found you annoying. Then, it didn't hurt when you thought you went too far.

Of course, you still got lonely long before you made this friend. The guy wasn't good to you. He didn't have the best grades either, but it was enough to be adored by girls and not so much that he'd get dubbed the team nerd. He wanted to keep it just between you two and for a while, that was okay with you. You didn't want to push it. You knew it wasn't going anywhere anyway, so _ so fucking what _ if no one knew about him and some nobody for the sake of his stupid reputation? It's your own fault. You chose him.

So you cheer and cheer and cheer your silly little heart out and act casual when the new guy you have to remind yourself is a freshman and try not to come off as creepy around him. You have a (closet case you can't tell anyone about) _ boyfriend _ anyway. What's the harm in befriending the kid, though, right? Absolutely none! You think he likes your sister. You do your best to not get jealous. She's your best friend too. You can't vent to her about it. It won't matter in the long-run. You're Nobody, even if he calls you your real name.

You invite him to a place he doesn't belong in. You don't either exactly, but you're there anyway. Is it a lie that you were once popular if you don't specify what kind of popular and the person you're saying it to assumes it was in the good way, the way the guy who says he loves you in the same breath he tells you not to tell anyone he said that is? You don't care. You just hope he never wants more details about your so-called "popular" days.

You cling and hope he doesn't think of it as clinking as soon as your precious wallflower leaves the wall at a dance, roping him into dancing with you with your scarf. You sneak off with the other guy at some point, but the mood is ruined by someone walking in on it, on something secret and increasingly unhappy and the opposite of sacred. You laugh at Charlie being high and then make him promise not to tell anyone. You feel a need to make up for it when you hear about his old best friend. You want to be there for him. The feelings you should have for who you're screwing around with are there, and that's what does it. That's what makes it matter that you're someone's secret.

This time two years ago, you thought it would be fun and games and nothing more and fizzle out exactly how it had started, like a stutter, go-stop-go-stop-go- and then one day stop forever because he got a girlfriend or whatever and it'd be the end of it and it wouldn't matter anymore. You thought you'd keep finding new people and being funny and then eventually die, probably in some comedic way, but it wouldn't be talked about for very long because it's not like you got famous or anything. Sure, Sam might be sad about it for a while, but she'd be just fine without you. It wouldn't be a showstopper for anyone. She'd outlive you and be successful and find true love and you'd slowly but surely fade out of her mind.

Now things are different. You have a new friend who cares a thousand times more than any of your other friends about the potential to offend anyone with his thoughts and really likes Sam, that much is obvious, but he doesn't _dis_like you and so a tiny spark of hope is lit in your foolish little mind. It was easier to be nobody of note when you didn't think you had a chance with someone better, someone who would truly respect you, not just pretend to on the weekends or whenever it was convenient.

Seven months; that's how long you let it go on in the beginning, the drunken fooling around and the lie or truth, you'll never know which for sure, of it not being remembered very clearly, and it not mattering. Then, it didn't matter if you cried about the fact that it still had to be a secret even after it got more honest. You just didn't want to be a life-ruiner. You figured your own was ruined enough of your own fault at that point. At least you had your mean, law-breaking friends and the feeling of being pretty on a stage sometimes.

Now, you're in that costume, sitting in the lap of your new friend, hoping it doesn't matter the next day so you don't have to pretend it doesn't matter to you that you got rejected by someone who doesn't talk about going to Hell for anyone. Then, either way, you'd think: He still has a lot of growing up to do. No matter what he says, he'll never get you. He may be a quiet lingerer, but you just have this feeling he's meant to be somebody, maybe a great writer. You secretly hope if he becomes a writer, he bases a character off of you.

You could use it, but you don't accept any schoolwork help from your freshy friend like Sam does. You think it'd be too tempting to flirt with him, especially because they chose a restaurant to do it in. It's a date location. You wonder if they're actually dating and just calling it something else, but you don't want to assume that of her, so you keep the thought to yourself and find a good distraction whenever it pops back up. You put in the effort to pass the shop class you kept re-taking just so you can brag about it to them.

You joke, but you cherish the gifts from him long after opening them. You don't even care that he didn't get you anything. You pretend it doesn't do something to you to see him wearing something you picked out personally with care. You know Sam got him a typewriter. It's more likely he'll write about her, or perhaps even the two of them together. You try to keep from being nosy. It doesn't last. You think nothing good in your life does.

The first person to kiss you didn't love you when it happened and now you'll never know if love was in the picture anywhere down the line. You didn't give him anything for holidays or birthdays, but you bought a whole suit and gave away your clock to Charlie. You can tell there's a lot they both aren't telling you, but you care more and more over time about the younger one's private thoughts, especially when you see him standing all alone, not talking to anyone, not being talked to. You let Sam be the one to talk to him when he's tripping in the winter with your other friends and goes outside to shovel. You can tell it's an important time in his life right now and you don't want to ruin it with your own baggage.  
Brad will never play Rocky, or any other character he deems not manly enough. You've known and accepted this for a long time. He won't get on the stage if he thinks he'll be recognized and his ego is too big to ever think he won't be recognized with makeup done just right. You let it slide. It's stupid to think they could ever be into all the same things. Your heart sings when Mary Elizabeth tells Charlie to undress to fill in and he just goes with it.

You can tell he isn't as into her as she's into him. You want to say something about it, but you care too much about both of them and their feelings. You didn't care that much about hers before, but you know how insecure she really is and how much her comments can sting when she's hurt and needs to deflect and you know it'll be even more of a bitch to handle if what she says back about you happens to be true.

You can't keep away any longer after he breaks it off by kissing Sam on a dare to kiss the prettiest girl in the room and he's sitting right next to Mary Elizabeth and both of them are upset with him. You know there's nothing he can really do about it to make the situation and you want to soften the blow and at the same time, you feel terrible and selfish, because you also want the girls to stay disinterested from that point on. You distract yourself with Brad.

It doesn't end well. You knew it wouldn't, but that doesn't prepare you for the precise level of mental damage it does after the fact. Charlie wants to be there for you because you're his friend and that had so suddenly made all of this matter but you can't let him be there for you because it's scary. It's fucking terrifying to matter. It's also infuriating when someone who should see it doesn't and you decide you're done being a secret.

Charlie defends you. It means the whole world and then some to you. You finally have it in you to ask him if he wants to go somewhere alone with you. You tell him about places you could go together in the future and don't use the D word - "date" - but you're thinking it. You tell a story and are satisfied with how he reacts to it. You pretend to be telling a hypothetical about a guy and you both know it's about Brad, but Charlie doesn't comment on it. He doesn't treat it like venting without warning when they're supposed to be having a good time. "I just need to meet a good guy," you say, and that's all the notice he gets before he's being kissed by you and apologizing and you never ask why because you know why. You just need to feel something other than sorry for yourself for as long as you can without being pushed away.

It's not like you didn't feel like you belonged in your friend group with your sister and then with Charlie, but you always had that lingering thought that if you lived long enough, you wouldn't have it anymore, and so you sometimes would feel like you were only an observer or a performer entertaining an audience and someday some of them would have a hard time remembering your name. Someday, you'd be alone, because you didn't think you could find new people to surround yourself with who you truly wanted to be around because at the end of high school, you developed standards and the top priority in that list was that anyone you persued in the future had to treat you like you mattered just as much as you now feel you do.

It's not okay anymore, you think, and maybe it never was. You're something - you're someone. Your existence makes a difference even if you can't see it while you're in the dark. When you let in the light, you choose where to go from there. It's a land of infinite possibilities, including seeing Charlie with Sam and telling him how it got better.

And damn, it sure did get better.


End file.
